Season of Cheer
by jiv3y
Summary: This year, he had run out of ideas for Christmas. .roxasXnaminé.


**So when I wrote Amour, I had in mind the fact that Sora and the KHII gang seemed to know about the holidays when they went to Halloweentown. I received a review from ****Solaria16**** in which it was suggested that I write drabbles for every holiday of the year.**

**And thus, through a mixture of boredom and creativity, this was created. I named this after a song I had to learn a couple years ago, back when I was in choir. It was for a Christmas show and the lines were, _"Season of light, season of cheer, season of hope, may it last throughout the year."_**

**Hope you like it; it was certainly fun to put Roxas through all of this.**

**Disclaimer: I only wish I owned them.**

* * *

Every year, he always seemed to be able to make her the perfect last-minute gift. 

He never needed to throw himself into the crazy hoards of holiday shoppers in the crowded, snow-covered streets. He always stayed home, locked away in his room for hours, composing something he thought she might just like. Every year she would read over the poem he spent hours writing or listening to the song he'd played on the piano for her, a small smile assuring him that he had not failed in his attempt to please her.

This year, however, he found that all of his ideas had been dried up; he lay on the ground propped up by his elbows, a pencil spinning between his fingers as he stared at the blank sheet of paper before him.

He tossed the writing utensil into some unknown corner of the room, a scowl on his face. Now what?

Lifting himself off the ground, he looked around the bleak room. An unmade bed was in the corner next to a wide-open window, giving him a view of the moon and letting the sounds of the city's night life drift inside. He stretched his arms; how long had he been lying there? An hour? Maybe three?

He ruffled his blond locks and yanked open the door, slipping into a pair of worn sneakers and snagging a jacket on his way out. It was going to be cold outside.

* * *

He shivered as he neared the blinking lights and seasonal wreaths hung on snow-dusted lamp posts. They lit the way toward that place he dreaded so much, the place he had sworn he would never go near again unless he was desperate. 

Now, on Christmas Eve, he was a little more than desperate.

He stopped abruptly to avoid being hit by a lady running by, her twenty-something bags jingling on her wrists, filled with toys and books and anything else he could possibly think of.

"Roxas?"

He looked over his shoulder suspiciously. That sounded familiar. _Very_ familiar.

A gloved hand wound its way around his neck and an arm pulled him backwards into a headlock, followed by a melodic laughter. He felt his hair being messed up as he kicked and tried to struggle his way out of his best friend's grip.

"Axel, let go! Damn it!"

The taller of the two released him, a satisfied grin on his face.

"What happened? Thought you said you hated this place."

Roxas looked down and shook the snow from his shoes. He could see the stone floor peeking through the fluffy white substance before it was covered.

Axel waved a hand in his face.

"Hey, you in there? Why are you down here?"

Roxas muttered something in response, shaking his head furiously.

"What?"

Suddenly someone was yanking his collar upward from the back, causing him to gasp and glare accusingly at the figure next to him.

"Speak up, I can't hear that well," Axel commanded, brushing the snow from his hair. "When is this weather going to lighten up?"

Roxas nodded toward the festive lights.

"Naminé."

Axel looked surprised for a moment, but the expression melted into one of someone who had just found blackmail material.

"Oh. Ran out of ideas, did we?"

The younger punched his arm lightly.

"Shut up."

He began to trudge through the white slush, shivering with a mixture of annoyance and cold. He sighed when he heard Axel sloshing around behind him; it was pointless to try to get him to leave.

They eventually reached the pavement, where some shopkeepers had shoveled the snow from the cement to make a narrow path. Roxas had his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders so that the collar of his coat would shield his face from the icy breeze. Axel whistled softly behind him, glancing into the intricate displays of seasonal chocolates and greeting cards lit by tiny golden lights. A man shut the door softly behind him, a sign swinging back and forth on a loose nail.

After combing through a variety of stores, Roxas sat down on a wet bench, exasperated. He had seen almost every sickeningly impersonal gift in existence, and nothing seemed good enough for her. Axel stood beside him, gazing at the crowd of people rushing along the sidewalks. Quick apologies filled the air as they bumped into each other, some kind enough to help pick up spilled contents of shopping bags while others ran along, oblivious to what they had done.

A groan was heard from the boy on the bench; he had his head in his hands and was shaking it slowly. Axel scanned the stores on the street.

"Why don't you just buy her something she can use?"

Roxas blinked up at him, his wide blue eyes curious.

"Like what? That's not anything special, anyway."

Axel grabbed his best friend by the arm and dragged him back toward a store on the corner, a smile on his face.

"You'll see."

* * *

The store was small and cramped. Roxas could smell the stale scent of take-out food in the air as he brushed snowflakes off his arm. The aisles were lit by cheap multicolored Christmas lights that were strung on the ceiling. He peered into a cardboard box filled with needle-thin paintbrushes, each painted a different color. Axel had disappeared behind a shelf, but he could spot the tips of his damp spiky hair from above a canister of pencils. 

"Here you go, Roxas," Axel chimed, a package clutched in one gloved hand. "The perfect gift, just for your little girlfriend."

Roxas blushed and mumbled something about "shut up," but he took the present anyway.

He unwrapped it at the counter; a woman was on the other side of the register, her back turned to him, brush and palette in hand.

"A sketchbook?" he asked, holding it up questioningly. "She's already got a million of them."

Axel tilted his head.

"Idiot. Make it special."

Roxas studied the leather-bound book; it was on the ordinary side.

"Make it special?" he echoed, flipping through the blank pages. "How?"

* * *

The next day, she handed him a neatly-wrapped box when he sat down with her on the couch. He pulled her gift out and stared at the brightly-colored ribbon before giving it to her. She looked surprised for a moment, but it was a good kind of surprised. 

"Merry Christmas, Naminé."

She smiled brightly and leaned on his shoulder, tugging at the ribbon until it unfurled. After a few agonizing moments (she always had to fold the paper neatly so that she could save space), she unveiled the sketchbook. She looked at him, slightly puzzled.

"Thank you, Roxas."

He nudged the cover. "Go on, open it."

She did as he said, lifting the shining leather cover and staring at the first page.

The song he had played for her on their first Christmas together.

The next page held a pressed daisy; he had given her one when he asked her to go on a date with him, his face tinted with red and his eyes downcast.

She flipped through the entire book with him glancing anxiously over her shoulder. He fiddled with the necklace she had given him, rolling the chain between his fingers.

Finally she closed the book without a word.

"Do you like it?" he asked tentatively, watching her.

When she didn't say anything immediately, he directed his gaze at the carpet, cursing Axel and his lack of ideas in the back of his mind.

This string of thought was cut short, though, when he felt her press her lips to his cheek lightly. He felt his cheeks get warmer as he turned to face her, eyes wide.

"Yes, I love it."

And with a mischievous smile on her face, she kissed him once more before settling into the crook of his arm. The shock would wear off soon enough.

* * *

**Lovely? Ghastly? It's always a pleasure to hear from you.**

**'Til next time!  
jiv3y**


End file.
